And I Went Into A Dream
by Miss Woodford
Summary: This day would forever be known as "The Morning Allen Didn't Finish His Breakfast". Rated T for vague sex and a naked General later on. Chapter Two up now because I'd forgotten about it no cracks about "senior moments" from the peanut gallery
1. Chapter 1

**...And I Went Into A Dream**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own D. Gray-Man. I just like to play around in its world and toy with the characters

**Warning:** regurgiation, sex and just plain weirdness. Those under 21 should avert their eyes from the sex scene. You have been warned.

After just thirty-seven months as an exorcist, Allen Walker's appetite for gastronomic excess was now legendary. Jerry,the head chef had ceased long ago to even raise a well-groomed eyebrow at the amount of food the boy ordered - or how fast he could stuff it down. The other exorcists, the finders and the eggheads in the science department took the "Great Wall of Walker", as the enormous pile of emptied bowls and plates was dubbed, in stride now.

Except for this day, forever after known as "The Morning Allen Didn't Finish His Breakfast."

Along with fellow exorcists Yu Kanda and Lavi, Allen had returned from a long and difficult mission late last night, after the kitchen was closed. All three slept later than usual, but made it to the dining hall in time for Kanda enjoyed his customary hot soba noodles and tea, while Lavi ate pancakes, bacon and several slices of wheat toast spread with grape jam. Allen was ripping along in his usual manner, haphazardly piling the dishes as he went, the faithful golem, Timcanpy nestled in his gray hair, when he just suddenly - stopped eating.

All conversation in the dining hall ceased and several dozen pairs of eyes turned to the suddenly quiet boy excorcist. He sat there with wide eyes, his chopsticks loaded with noodles halfway to his mouth. He chewed the mouthful he already had with evident difficulty, and then swallowed. Allen opened his mouth to eat the next serving, but no sooner had the chopsticks resumed their upward motion when they halted again. Allen closed his mouth and swallowed hard before he suddenly dropped the noodles and chopsticks back into the bowl. He shot up from his seat and stood like a statue, breathing hard and sweating profously.

A greenish tinge began to blossom on his pale cheeks and Allen's eyes widened even more before he clapped both hands over his mouth and bolted from the dining hall. Shaken loose from his perch, Timcanpy fluttered spastically in mid-air before he oriented himself and sped off after his young master. Johnny Gill heard the sounds of distress Allen was making and he instinctively leaned away in case Allen were to toss his cookies right then and there.

Allen disappeared underneath the arch, his receding footsteps echoed in the hall before he made an abrupt left turn and opened the great wooden door leading to the men's washroom. Those walking past in the hallway paused briefly at the loud retching noises, while they silently pitied whoever it was. The late comers who entered the dining hall were shocked to discover the sufferer was Allen Walker of the previously iron stomach.

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"ungh..." Allen pulled the toilet chain and watched the water suck his regurgitated breakfast down into the cathedral's sewage system. He hawked and spat a few times into the receding water in an attempt to get the foul taste out of his mouth. His over exerted stomach muscles throbbed with pain and his throat felt raw and scratchy from stress of vomiting. From behind, he heard a frantic knocking on the door muffled by the thick wood. Timcanpy wanted in and the golem was beating hard with his chubby fists, but Allen didn't feel up to standing just yet.

His head was whirling and the boy laid his heated cheek on the cool, flat rim of the porcelain altar, closed his eyes and breathed cautously through his mouth. His guts had hurt on and off for almost a week now, although this was the first time he'd actually thrown up. He was glad he'd done it at the place he considered "home", rather than an inn in the hinterlands of France. He gritted his teeth and groaned when the pain spiked hard enough to steal his breath. These surges of pain had come more and more frequently in the last three days. He'd hardly gotten any sleep the last two nights, he mostly tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. The finder assigned to their group repeatedly urged him to seek medical attention the minute they returned to headquarters, but Allen just assured the man "it's only a little stomach bug, I'll get over it."

The pain receded again and Allen gratefully drew several quicks breaths in harsh gasps. The finder was right, as soon as he could stand up, he would go see the Black Order medical staff. _I can't take much more of this pain._ He put his hands, palms down on the toilet rim and tried to push himself up, his legs obeyed although they trembled like trees shaking in a high wind. Allen was almost standing straight when gorge raced up this throat at high speed and he fell to his knees on the marble floor. Allen stuck his face into the toilet bowl just in time as his stomach gave its all, his hands trembling on the rim. It had to be empty by now. Something landed with a loud thud on the cover of the toilet tank, and once the spasm ended. Allen flicked his gaze upward to see Timcanpy, his wings fluttering in agitation. Even without a face, the golem managed to look concerned.

"Timcanpy, how did y - ungh!" Allen's abdominal muscles contracted so hard, a harsh cry of pain was wrenched from his throat. His mouth opened wide, but only a little trickle of darkish liquid dripped into the murky toilet water while he gagged. Allen sank back onto his haunches, his sweating forehead resting upon the rim, his breath came in painful rasps while his heart hammered between his ribs.

"How long has your stomach been hurting, Allen?" He raised his head slightly and a cool, dry hand molded itself against his sweaty temple. It felt soothing and Allen butted his head against it like a cat. Only Bookman could enter a room so quietly, Timcanpy must have snuck in behind him.

Bookman began to rub Allen's temple, using just his finger tips in a gentle circular motion. The boy felt his body relax and the muscles go slack as the pain seemed to recede into the background. He suddenly felt very sleepy and heavy eyelids slid shut over his blue eyes. Yes, he would sleep for a while and he'd feel better when he woke up. _That's right, I'm just over tired from not enough sleep and..._

The pain came roaring back like an express train, dragging Allen back into consciousness along with it. He frantically grabbed at Bookman's shirt, seized a fistful of material in each hand and dug his fingers in with such force his knuckles paled. A scream was also racing up his throat and he closed his teeth on the fabric, howling into his improvised gag. His back bowed as his abdominal muscles contracted again, Allen gagged but nothing came up.

Once the spasm was over, Allen unclenched his hands and crouched, slack-jawed and sweating on the floor. Bookman patted the damp gray hair plastered to Allen;s skull. "Poor boy, you are suffering. But you have an idea what is wrong, don't you?"

"Maybe he has morning sickness!" Allen looked up in sudden horror to see Lavi and half the science department - even the women - had crowded into the men's room to see what was going on. He blushed, the color rising from the collar of his shirt up to his hairline. Lavi suddenly yelped in pain, "Hey! Why'd you hit me, Gramps?"

"Not another word from you, pup!" Bookman growled like an irritated tiger, but he didn't hit Lavi again. First he would make sure Allen was cared for before he gave his idiot apprentice a good thrashing. Lavi rubbed the back of his head and wondered how the tiny old man had managed to reach up high enough to slap him there.

"What's going on here? I heard Allen didn't finish his breakfast, is that true? One side, everyone! Make way!" Allen groaned in resignation. Komui Lee, head officer of the Black Order's Science Department was pushing people out of his way. He swore the man took a special pleasure in torturing him, just so he could use the "toys" he'd invented. Like Komlin. Allen would never forget the monster robot that went on a rampage after it accidentally drank Komui's coffee. Determined to operate upon exorcists, the machine had dragged Allen to its built in surgery room before Lenalee invoked her Innocence and turned Komlin into a huge pile of scrap metal. Allen still had the occasional nightmare about it...

Sharp black eyes behind rimless spectacles pinned Allen down like an insect specimen to a cork board. "Allen," Komui was an excitable type of person given to theatrical gestures. In that way, he was much like Bak Chan, director of the Black Order's Asia Branch. That man tended to break out into hives when he got excited, fortunately, Komui didn't go _quite _that far. He had his softer side which he reserved only for those he loved and cared about. Komui showed it now in the gentle way he knelt down and scooped an unresisting Allen up into his arms. "You don't have to endure the pain."

///////////////////////////////////////

The gentleness didn't last long. "Reever!" Komui bellowed in a voice that carried from one end of the cathedral to the other. "Call Dr. Kildare! Get operating room one ready while I prepare Allen for surgery!" Timcanpy fluttered just above Allen, he was trying to land on Komui's shoulder, but the man was moving too quickly for the golem. Reever stuck his head out from the communications room. He was a tall man with spiky blond hair which stuck out at all angles because he was always running his fingers through it in frustration. It gave him a look of perpetual astonishment, even when he was calm. Which didn't happen very often.

He'd been munching a piece of toast spread with strawberry jam and he could only mumble noncommittally because his mouth was full. But he grabbed his headphones once he'd swallowed and relayed Komui's message to the surgical staff. Then he got up from his chair and went to the examination room. Komui had unceremoniously dumped Allen on an adjustable table and begun unbuttoning the boy's shirt. "Ah! Reever! Get Allen's shirt off while I prepare the sleep medication." Reever shrugged and slipped a few buttons out, then stiffened when Allen grabbed his arm tightly.

"Ungh!" The boy gritted his teeth and his back bowed off the table when another spasm of pain hit. He tried very hard not to scream. Reever was also trying not to scream because Allen had seized him with his deformed left arm, the one which contained the Innocence named "Crowned Clown". The spam passed after a few seconds and Allen relaxed, his pale face dotted with sweat. He let go of Reever's arm and the communications chief looked anxiously at the deep finger marks pressed into the skin. Fortunately nothing seemed broken.

He patted the rumpled red skin affectionately, "It's gonna be O.K. Allen. Try to relax now and y-III!"

The door crashed open and even Allen lept a few inches off the table. "We're going to have a spot of cutting today, eh? wot!? WOT!?"

Reever groaned, but he resisted the urge to smack his forehead with one hand. "Reever?! WHO is that!?" Allen raised his head and he looked at the apparition with a mixture of surprise and horror.

"Allen, this is Dr. Angus Kildare. He's going to - " but the man cut through Reever's gentle explanation like a chainsaw. A very loud chainsaw.

Dr. Angus Kildare stood barely five feet tall in his elevator shoes, but a giant was inside him and struggling to get out. At least that's why Reever guessed he possessed that outsize personality and booming voice to make up for his vertical handicap. Angus Kildare looked like an extremely animated garden gnome, what with his wild auburn hair and long handlebar mustache which defied all attempts at proper grooming. His massively bulbous nose and portruding square chin which entered a room five minutes before he did, didn't seem to match his petite frame. Kildare's fingers, for instance, were long and slender with manicured nails, they wielded scalpels with astonishing grace. But the man's bearing resembled that of a bellicose human-shaped bull in a china shop.

Rumor was he even scared Rouvellier, the hated Vatican inspector, so there was a small measure of respect for him. But only a small measure because his bedside manner was downright frightening. Dr. Kildare bellied right up to the examination table and his very blue eyes raked over the nervous Allen. "Hallo, lad," he said in a briefly softer voice. "Stomach gone a bit tricky-woo, has it?"

Allen nodded before he closed his eyes and grimaced. "Don't worry lad!" Kildare punched Allen's right shoulder and the boy gasped. Timcanpy, who'd been perched on the table by Allen's head took flight in sudden alarm, his sharp fangs bared. "We'll have you right as rain in no time, pip! pip! Tally ho and all that good stuff!"

Without so much as an 'excuse me', he unbuttoned and unzipped Allen's pants and yanked them halfway down his hips. He casually slapped away the boy's hands when he tried to pull them back up. Timcanpy unleashed a rumbling, ominous growl, but the golem squeaked and tried to hide behind Reever after Kildare threw a pointed look at him.

"Golems, heh! Give 'em an inch and they'll take the whole bloody nine yards if you get my meaning, young Walker." Kildare advised while he probed Allen's sore abdomen. "You've spoiled the little beast but a week spent locked in a small trunk would teach him some manners."

"Um, I -" Allen tried to speak, but he was distracted by Kildare's hands. They pressed down on the left side of his abdomen and he grimaced, his teeth grinding together. The fingers danced over the skin,pressing here and there, and making him very nervous. Then they hovered briefly over the right side before pressing down hard. White hot pain hit Allen's nervous system like a tidal wave and he uttered a high-pitched scream. Kildare's eyes widened briefly before he smiled. That was a frightening gesture which bared an extraordinary number of very large, very square and very white teeth.

"Appendicitis!" he shouted as if in triumph. "Are you ready with the syringe, Komui? Ah, good man! I'll leave you to it then while I knock up those layabouts in surgery! Ta-ta!" He walked purposefully out of the examination room, giving the wooden door a good slam which rattled its hinges.

Komui came to the table with a white enamel dish in one hand, which contained the filled syringe, a small brown bottle and a square of cotton. "He takes some getting used to, Allen," he said shakily, a fine sheen of sweat on his temple. "But he's really a very nice man, or so I've heard."

"You heard?!" Allen's query was rather sarcastic while Komui rubbed alcohol rubbed on the inside of his right elbow. He winced at the needles bite, but the sleep medication was very fast acting. He began to feel woozy after just a few seconds and barely noticed when his shoes and pants were removed and a sheet was thrown over him and pulled up to his neck. Komui unlocked the table wheels and he walked beside the semi-conscious Allen while Reever pushed it down the long corridor to the surgery suite. The head science officer rubbed Allen's right shoulder and babbled soothing nonsense to the boy until the anesthesialogist met him at the doors of operating room one. Reever patted Komui's back while he stood and watched wistfully as Allen was wheeled away through a pair of swinging metal doors.

"Allen looks so helpless, Reever."

"He'll be fine, Komui. For all his faults - and he has a lot - Kildare is a great surgeon."

//////////////////////////////////////////

An extremely bright light stung his eyes and Allen tried to turn his head away, mumbling softly in protest.

"Shhh," a vioce which seemed very far away spoke from somewhere above and behind his head. Allen looked muzzily up at a figure gowned and masked in white. He furrowed his brows in concentration because all he could see of the figure was it's eyes. "Shh", it repeated in a very soft tone and Allen muzzily decided _it _was a woman.

She held a black hood in one hand,which emitted hissing sounds like a snake. To Allen's horror, she put it over his face and he tried to turn his head and shake it off but she held in in place.

"Breathe deeply, Lord Exorcist," she advised gently, and the voice sounded so nice, Allen did as she asked. The edges of his vision darkened, it narrowed with each breath until he saw just a tiny dot of brightness.

Even that light faded away as black shadows crowded Allen's mind and he spiraled down into darkness.


	2. I Dream About You

**...And I Went Into A Dream**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own -Man. I just like to play around in its world and annoy the characters.

**Author's note:** Three years have passed since chapter one of the manga. Allen is now 18 and a seasoned exorcist, he's leaving childhood behind. Allen is underoing an emergency appendectomy, and dreaming about Lenalee while under anesthesia. I'm sorry for not uploading this MONTHS ago, but I thought I HAD. Until I opened the files and found it hiding, trembling and whimpering, in the darkest recesses of my thumb drive. Here little one, I have struck off the chains and opened the door - fly free.

**Thanks to:** Ahnkitomi, whose story "Midnight Snack" had some good pointers for writing a non-explicit sex scene.

**Warning:** mild sex and mention of "naughty bits". Those under 21 have been warned.

**Beta du jour: **Took-baggins

_Chapter 2: __I Dream About You_

Allen woke up in complete darkness. His curtailed senses told him he was in his own bed in his room at the Black Order headquarters. His body clock told him it was the middle of the night and he ought to be fast asleep. But his left hand tingled, a sign something wasn't right. The second sign something had come amiss was Timcanpy. The golem which normally nestled under the blankets now fluttered in an agitated manner over his head.

"Timcanpy,what is it?" Allen whispered softly, his eyes still weren't accustomed to the dark so he couldn't see much. Above him, the golden golem bared his fangs and growled a low pitched rumble of warning. _I BITE!_

Objects in the darkness gradually became clearer as Allen's eyes adjusted, but his heart lurched when he noticed the human-shaped figure at the far side of his room. It wasn't an akuma, or "Crowned Clown", the Innocence in his left arm would have reacted. But if that figure was not an akuma...

_Tyki Mikk! Oh, no! _

Then it could be one of the clan of Noah, henchmen of the Millennium Earl and sworn enemies of exorcists. Tyki was the suave one with Absolute Power, and the Teez, the man-eating butterflies he controlled. He was a formidable fighter, and a favorite subject of most of Allen's nightmares. A fat round drop of sweat rolled down from his hairline to his chin. He swallowed nervously against the tightness in his throat.

The figure suddenly took a step forward and Allen realized it was too small to be Tyki Mikk. Allen blew a sigh, _Road Kamelot_. One of only two female Noahs, she controlled dreams and dimensions. Although the prettiest of the lot, she was also the most ruthless and inhumane. He would never forgive the unbelievable cruelty she'd shown to Lenalee in Germany, or Lavi in the Ark when she trapped their minds and tried to destroy their spirits.

Her despicable act of putting out his left eye with one of her sharp-ended candles was just the icing on a sour cake of hatred. While Allen had a small spark of respect for Tyki, he regarded Road with a loathing so strong it was almost physical. Also knowing she was attracted to him made his skin crawl like it was infested by a thousand fleas.

But no, it couldn't be her because she never came alone. Where was Lero, the Earl's evil, but buffoonish umbrella?

"Allen?" His heart had just resumed its normal rhythm and it promptly leapt out of sync again.

_Lenalee!_

If he wasn't having nightmares about akuma, the Noah, the Earl or his past, Allen had pleasant, if vaguely embarassing sexual dreams about Lenalee Lee. Lenalee,the beautiful younger sister of head science officer Komui Lee. Her presence in his room was like one of those dreams come true. Or it could be his worst nightmare if her overprotective older brother ever found them together in his room.

"Lenalee, what's the matter?"

She was a proper girl who wouldn't enter a young man's room in the middle of the night, except for a very compelling reason. Lenalee took a second step forward, and then another.

"Allen," she said softly, and he could hear the tears in her voice.

"Lenalee, what's wrong?" Allen winced when his voice cracked under his nerves. But Lenalee didn't appear to notice and she continued to advance until she walked into a shaft of moonlight which snuck between a gap in the heavy winter drapes. Despite the early spring chill, she wore a dusky pink long-sleeved sleep shirt with ruffles at the neck, sleeves, and hem. The fabric flowed over her body and hugged her high, small breasts and narrow waist which led down to long and shapely legs.

Breathing became difficult in the suddenly thick air. Another heartbeat joined the one pounding behind his breastbone, but this one raged between his legs. He couldn't stop staring at Lenalee's legs; they looked so perfect, like purest marble, glowing in the moonlight. He felt the wildest urge to touch them; he wanted to know if they were as soft and smooth as they looked. He needed to know.

"Allen!" Lenalee's voice had a concerned edge to go with the raw pain and that jolted Allen out of his soft-core reverie. His face flamed red with embarrassment.

"S-sorry, Lenalee," he ran his right hand over his face and hoped she didn't see how hard he was blushing.

A sob broke from Lenalee's throat just then and a wave of shame flowed through him. Lenalee was hurting and he was fantasizing about groping her legs. _I'm such a pig_. The throbbing between his legs faltered and finally stopped. The air was suddenly easier to breathe.

"Lenalee," he said in a tender tone he truly felt. Her arms were folded, her hands rubbing up and down her arms as if she was cold. Allen threw his bedcovers off, drawing in a hissing breath when the cold air struck bare skin. _She must be freezing!_

His robe hung from a wooden rack next to his uniform coat. He snagged it with one hand and crossed over to her in three long strides. She turned away from him, hunched shoulders shaking with her sobs as he slipped the thick blue velour robe around them. Lenalee was trying very hard not to cry, but she wasn't succeeding. Her shoulders jerked with odd little hiccoughs as she tried to regain her composure. But her head would occasionally dip into her palms and she would give in to spurts of tears.

"Lenalee," Allen whispered into one ear, his warm breath wafting random strands of her silky black hair. Originally long, it became very short after her Innocence; "the Black Boots" was irreparably damaged during that battle with a Level Three akuma in the Sea of Japan. But it grew back after she was chosen by a new Innocence and now it reached almost to the small of her back. It seemed so natural for him to wind his arms around Lenalee's slim waist and rest his chin on her right shoulder. He felt Timcanpy land on his head and nestle in his hair. "Please, Lenalee, tell me what's wrong."

Allen pressed his lips against her cheek in a quick peck, and she gasped in surprise. She turned in his loose embrace and looked him right in the eye. In the moonlight, fat round tears clung to her lower lashes and sparkled like gems. He reached out with his right thumb and wiped those tears away. "Don't cry, Lenalee."

She sniffed loudly before she could speak. "It's Leverrier, she whsipered and Allen's heart sank.

Malcolm C. Leverrier, the Vatican Inspector was his least favorite person after The Millennium Earl and Road Kamelot. He was technically on the side of God, but his every visit to the Black Order-European Branch left fear and anger in his wake. Leverrier was the nightmare of Lenalee's early years with the Order, and he'd also made no secret of his desire to put Allen on trial for heresy. Worst of all, Allen half suspected him of murdering his master, General Marian Cross. "What did he do to you this time?" He growled the words in a low tone, surprising himself with the strength of his anger.

Lenalee hiccoughed, sniffed and one tear escaped down her cheek. "He wants to ship me to the Black Order's American branch and marry me off to their strongest exorcist. A man twenty years my senior."

"He wants to do WHAT!" Allen's mind boggled with this new revelation.

"He says," Lenalee's hitched with another sob, "'sending the Generals out with blocks of Innocence to find compatible Accommodators is old-fashioned and inefficient'."

"The man is a complete idiot. Like he thinks he knows a better way."

Lenalee wiped her eyes with her knuckles and her voice rose to a new level of indignation. "He - he wants to start breeding exorcists!" Fresh tears cascaded from her soft black eyes. "He says 'the Black Order needs a new strategy for a new century'."

"Idiot," Allen repeated because that was the kindest thing he could say about Leverrierr although several four-letter variations he'd heard General Cross say swirled in his head. "What does Komui say?"

"He doesn't like it, but he can't do anything if Leverrier decides to go through with his plan. Supposedly the Pope gave it 'serious consideration' after it was changed to allow for arranged marriages. He originally wanted to match me with a different exorcist every year, 'hybrid vigor', he called it.

"Humph. Why send you to America? I would marry you - um, unless you prefer Lavi." Allen's blue eyes twinkled with mischief. "Maybe you like older men like Kanda, or even -" Allen wiggled his eyebrows, "Count Krory?"

Lenalee clapped one hand over her mouth, but it couldn't muffle her giggle, a bright peal like the sun rising. But she sobered again almost immediately. "When I mentioned it, he said you weren't suitable for the exorcist breeding program."

Allen was too stunned to say anything and in a quick rush of words, Lenalee inserted the sting when he didn't speak. "Leverrierr also said 'Parasite type Accommodators are freaks'."

A nameless rage rushed through and away from Allen. "Excuse me, Lenalee," he muttered from between suddenly tight lips. He released his hold on her shoulders and walked over to a bare wall before he cocked his left fist and smashed it into the stone work. Lenalee gasped, but Allen ignored the sound. He pulled his hand back and examined his torn and bleeding knuckles without really seeing them. A growl arose in his throat and he punched the wall several more times until Lenalee screamed "stop!" and grabbed his left elbow with both hands.

It wasn't easy because every time his mind touched on Leverrier's words - _parasite-type Accommodators are freaks_ - he felt another fresh surge of anger. His knuckles stung painfully and blood trickled down his fingers. But the wall hadn't fared much better. The stone blocks now were decorated with a ragged row of six irregular holes, bits of crushed granite trickling from them.

"Ah, stop it, Allen! Your hand! Look how it's bleeding!" Lenalee dug a handkerchief from inside one sleeve of her sleep shirt and wrapped it around the torn skin.

"It's all right, Lenalee, you don't need to do that." Allen was calmer now and shame weighed his gaze down. He stared at the floor while she gently tied a double knot to hold the impromptu bandage secure.

"But you're bleeding!" She protested and held the hand up to his face so he could see the four dots of blood like red shadows through the fabric. Allen smiled down at her and muttered something like _"Nurse Lenalee"_, but she didn't return the expression.

"You're such an idiot!" The tone of her voice made something inside Allen recoil, like a scolded child sent to stand in a corner. "Why do you always insist on hurting yourself?"

"But I'm all right, Lenalee! Really I am!"

Allen plucked at the square of cotton and pulled it back to show her the already dried blood scabbing on his knuckles. He was unique among parasite-type Accommodators because his Innocence protected him. It blocked the hole Tyki Mikk had made in his heart, synchronized with him at an unheard of rate and it healed very quickly. He picked at one scab on the knuckle of his middle finger with the right thumb and index finger.

Lenalee tried to slap it away. "No! Allen, don't! You'll make it - !"

She stopped yelling and just whispered the word "bleed" as the scab crumbled off to reveal unmarked pale skin. "See?"

Lenalee's face folded and she punched his left arm hard enough to hurt. "You're still an idiot!"

Allen rubbed his sore bicep and stared incredulously at her. Ever since the new Innocence chose her, Lenalee had become more assertive, less afraid to voice her opinion. While Allen wanted her to be less fearful and silently praised her new attitude, his male pride wasn't quite so keen on the idea. The robe had slipped over her shoulders and puddled on the floor at her feet. Her chest was exposed and two small bumps stood out enough to stretch the fabric. A traitorous urge to touch them squirmed out of the dark recesses of Allen's primitive under brain but he quickly squelched the idea. Lenalee would just hit him again.

"Allen!" Lenalee must have noticed the direction of his gaze because she crossed her arms over her breasts and scowled darkly, an expression he thought was rather cute. "What is wrong with you?"

She whirled around and presented her back, stiff with anger to him. Allen felt like he'd just been slapped across the face.

"Lenalee!" Allen felt a vague embarrassment, yet he was also exasperated because he didn't know what he'd done to anger her. He shook his head, dislodging Timcanpy who squeaked indignantly and flapped away. Allen snorted, and bent to pick up the robe. Her shoulders were shaking again and he stopped, barely able to breathe.

"Lenalee, please don't cry anymore. He put her arms around her again and she shuddered before she turned and wrapped her arms about his chest in a hug. Allen was astonished by the gesture and he stood frozen in place while she tucked her head underneath his chin. Now it was the turn of her breath to stir the strands of his shoulder length gray hair. It was almost long enough for him to pull it back in a ponytail; maybe it was time to have it cut. Lenalee's breath was warm, but his skin went all goose pimply as if his flesh was chilled.

Allen drew her closer until her breasts were flattened against his chest for a moment before he relaxed his hold. When she looked up at him, confusion shimmering in her dark eyes, he cupped her narrow chin with three fingers of his right hand and kissed her. He didn't know what possessed him to make the gesture, a clumsy and hesitant brushing together of lips. His heart was hammering wildly and he looked nervously at the closed door of his room. "Allen?"

Lenalee looked him with a new and different light in her eyes, heat rose in Allen's face and he realized he must be blushing again. Like a lovesick ten year old who has a crush on a more mature schoolmate. _She's out of my league_, he thought desperately. He was too immature, too naive, too trusting for Lenalee Lee. She could do better than him, a deformed monster with no family, no pedigree, and no prospects other than fighting akuma until he died. It was hopeless...

"Allen? Kiss me again? Please?"

He was thunderstruck and he stared deep into Lenalee's eyes, as if seeing her for the first time. Fresh hope stirred in his chest and relief washed over him, making him feels weak in the knees.

_She's not angry! _

_Maybe I am good enough..._

He lowered his head to kiss Lenalee again because her wish was his command. This kiss quickly became deeper and his lips pushed hard against her's. His own boldness startled him, but Lenalee didn't seem offended by it. She allowed him to take control, to dictate the pace and strength of the kiss. One little kiss which quickly became a whole series of long, deep, sloppy kisses.

Her heart beat against his with a rhythm like a startled bird: _ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump_. He consciously tried to keep his own heartbeat steady, to calm her nervousness. The whole world shrunk to just the two of them, standing close together in the middle of his room, in the middle of the night and kissing as if it was their last moment on earth.

Allen was dimly aware of Lenalee pushing on his shoulders and making soft sounds of protest against his mouth. He tried to calm her with his lips, but she became more and more agitated and reluctantly he pulled his tongue back before it got bitten. He was really enjoying himself and disappointed because she wanted him to stop.

"Lenalee?"

She held him by the shoulders and regarded him with a level stare as if he was a misbehaving child. "Allen, look down."

Halfway down his body, the fall of his long woolen nightshirt which hung almost to the floor, was interrupted by a prominent bulge. So that was the source of the pulse he'd felt thudding away down there. Allen just stared at it, utterly mortified and unsure what to do. His face turned fire red again and he was ashamed to look her in the eye, so he flicked his gaze up just enough to view her through his eyelashes.

In the end, who knew he was so shy and she was so bold?

/

Lenalee took hold of her sleep shirt hem and pulled it over her head, tossing it behind her in the darkness. Allen forgot to breathe and his eyes fluttered to clear his vision of the dark spots dancing before them. Like her legs, the rest of her body was pale and smooth. Lenalee could have been a statue, except for a pulse fluttering in the hollow of her throat. She approached closer and one hand went out, tentatively to brush the bulge under his woolen shirt. Allen gasped out stale air with the shock, but it got his lungs working again and the spots disappeared.

His heart hammered so hard he thought it would shake loose from its secure nest between his ribs. His hands moved of their own volition to skim against her twin rises of flesh, they felt solid, warm and surprisingly heavy. Lenalee shivered when goose pimples raced along her flesh and Allen felt an unfamiliar prickling all over his skin. The fine hairs at the back of his neck were standing straight up. He gulped hard around the gigantic lump in his throat which threatened to strangle him before bending over and burying his face between them.

They smelled of innocence: soap and sweat, talcum powder and some other scent his muddled brain couldn't identify. His tongue flicked out and lapped it off her heated skin, and Lenalee moaned, a low-pitched sound from the back of her throat. It was exciting and scary all at the same time. Then she took his left hand and led him back to his bed, yes, it was the middle of the night, he would just go back to sleep...

No, he couldn't sleep, not now. Lenalee crawled up onto the creaking mattress, turned, and sat down to face him. He started to pull his nightshirt off, but stopped, frozen. Once bared, she would see what a monster his was and how his accursed left arm attached to his body. It would disgust her, she would scream in horror and he began to soften at the thought.

"Allen?" The tone of her voice was so soft and loving, and in a rush he pulled his nightshirt up and over his head before he lost his nerve completely. He was upon the bed and hovering over her before he realized it, but there he stopped, unsure of what to do.

Allen Walker was just eighteen years old and frozen with indecision. For the last six years, he'd gone racing into battle without a second thought but salvation of akuma souls. His left hand was for akumas, his right hand for humanity, so dedicated to his duty he'd never imagined more "mundane" pursuits: like - sex.

Lenalee's eyes flickered up and down, examining the many scars that defaced his skin. One small hand came up to trace a wide puckered pale slash, like a lightning-blasted tree which ran from right shoulder to waist. Because Allen tried so hard, he collected new scars every mission and barely an inch of him wasn't marked. But scars -seen and unseen - were a fact of life for exorcists. She stared at the scars with wide eyes and wanting her to stop those mingled looks of awe and pity, he lowered his head to kiss her again.

There was that _sound_ again at the back of her throat. Something about it was so appealing and he went deeper to put some tongue into it. A welcome warmth coiled in his belly and the hardness between his legs returned. His left arm trembled while his right dropped down to touch her breasts before the fingers skimmed down a flat stomach to smooth thighs. Lenalee's breath hitched and she arched slightly into his touch, moaning against his lips. The damp slickness surprised his fingers and more spilled over his hand as it moved forward to explore the warmth it found. Both of them breathed fast and hard, sensations neither were prepared for.

/

_A memory:_

_On Allen's sixteenth birthday, ahead of the surprise party the science department geeks, magicians, and alchemists planned, Komui sat Allen down in his office and gave him "the talk". He meant to tell Allen about sex, how beautiful it was, how it led to the creation of new life, how it was a sacrament meant only for the marriage bed. _

_But he failed - utterly. _

Komui hemmed and hawed, started and stopped. He 'ahemed' and 'ummed', opened some random books and blushed at what he saw before slamming them shut. Allen just sat quietly, wide-eyed and confused, he did not understand what all the fuss was about. He actually knew a bit more about "the facts of life" than Komui did, having lived with that libertine of a General, Marion Cross. For one unforgettable month, they'd lived in a Chinese brothel and Allen saw and heard more adult "business" than he wanted - or needed - to. But neither unwanted glimpses, his Master nor Komui couldn't teach him was what sex FELT like.

He never expected it, the resistance, the warmth, and wetness. Allen tried hard to concentrate after he moved inside, Lenalee cried out in pain after the first forceful thrust, her fingernails digging and relaxing against his shoulders. But his thoughts scattered like panicked mice because what he was doing felt both right and wrong all at the same time. He froze once, briefly, uncertainty flooding through his muscles, then she moved against him and clumsily kissed his neck, just a quick peck and a slight feel of her teeth. That broke the spell and he began to move himself, back and then forward. The rhythm calmed his thoughts and he relaxed, riding the sensations.

Allen showed her the strength and force of his love, at one point, the fingers of their hands twined together. His mouth sought hers and they kissed, so hard and passionately their lips were bruised. When their mouths finally parted, his lips slid down to her long neck and he put some teeth into his kiss. He left his mark, but low down so the high collar of her exorcist uniform would hide it from prying eyes. The scent was so heavy it reminded him of his training days when his Master would stumble back to their lodgings in the grey hour before dawn. His clothes would be disheveled, the coat often buttoned wrongly. His eyes were bloodshot and he _reeked_ of sin: alcohol, smoke, and that smell Allen now realized was sex.

The day on the Ark, Allen had felt such an intense surge of jealousy when he saw Master holding Lenalee's face and speaking to her so gently. Master had a special voice for speaking to women, a low and seductive murmur which convinced even the most reluctant maiden to disrobe and have _bed sport_ with him. That is when his true love, something deeper than merely platonic love for a friend first stirred in his chest. He wanted to steal her away from everyone, take her into the Musician's Room, and lock the door. Fortunately, he was exhausted,plus too weak with hunger and his injuries to go through with it. Or he might have done something really embarrassing that would have earned him a thrashing from General Cross.

A delicate blush, like a rose petal of the palest pink hue started at the base of Lenalee's throat. It spread upward into her face and Lenalee shattered. Her fingernails moved from his back to dig into his hips and push him deeper. Allen thrust harder, trying to get closer as she arched her back and cried out so loudly he was certain everyone in the cathedral heard it. A hot spring was winding up tighter and tighter in his stomach and it broke just as he reached his limit and a harsh cry erupted from his throat. It hung in the chilly air in front of him as if frozen before it disappeared. His bones felt like they'd melted to jelly and he collapsed, exhausted, on top of her. Allen panted like an overworked steam engine until Lenalee pushed against his chest and he cautiously rolled over.

The moon had set and a faint ray of sunlight flickered at the drapery, but sleep was tugging at his mind. Yet before he surrendered to the pull, he tugged on the blankets which lay rumpled at the foot of the bed. They snuggled together under several layers of wool and drifted off to sleep. But not until his snore mingled with her deep breathing did Timcanpy leave his perch on top of the wardrobe and glide down to the bed. His chubby little hands worried at the blankets until he'd made a space between Allen's back and the bottom one. Grumbling a little, the golem wormed his way in, long wings slicked back behind him. Seeking the warmest spot possible, he snuggled right up against the boy before folding his feet and legs underneath his round body. Two humans and a golem dreamed while the sun peeked over the horizon and warmed the ancient bricks of the cathedral.


End file.
